A Lovers' Splat
by girl undone
Summary: Grunt enlists Joker's help when Commander Rachel Shepard and Garrus Vakarian have a lovers' quarrel. Rated for both very suggestive and very strong language. The Dirty Dozen, with the exception of Samara, whose role is filled by Dr. Chakwas, also appear.


A/N: Much thanks to my beta, who provided some lines and a hearty dose of adopted teenaged krogan love!

* * *

"I don't understand how you can have so much of that hair on your head and it _still _ends up everywhere," Garrus Vakarian growled, and not in his usual sexy, bad-ass way, as he plucked a strand of red-gold hair from one of the pressure seals on his armour.

Commander Rachel Shepard replied lazily from the bed she still hadn't risen from, "If you'd let me get you a new suit, it wouldn't get caught so much."

"I fail to see how new armour would stop your hair from becoming attached to everything I own," Garrus grumbled, finding more strands caught in the singed collar of his cobalt suit.

Rachel sat up, grabbing a tee shirt that had lain discarded for some time by the edge of the bed. She was about to pull it over her head when she noticed it wouldn't really matter if she put it on because it was utterly shredded. She narrowed her eyes at Garrus, who was doggedly attempting to remove any more hairs which were caught in his armour. "You said you _liked_ my hair. I haven't cut it in ages because of you. I stopped straightening because _you said you liked it curly_." She was standing now, accusation dripping in her voice, somehow looking very commanding wearing only a ruined bed sheet. "And it wouldn't get caught in new armour because, presumably, that armour wouldn't be a jagged mess on one side!"

Unfortunately, Garrus did not heed to her tone or the state of those bed sheets. "Yeah, I do, when it isn't regenerating itself like vorcha. Spirits, Rachel, how are not bald like Jack?" He brandished a handful more of curly strands he yanked out of that 'jagged mess'.

"_Vorcha!_" Rachel hissed angrily. "Did you just compare me to _vorcha_? Well, maybe _vorcha_ wouldn't have shredded my favourite tee shirt and every sheet in this room!"

Garrus looked toward the fuming figure waving said shredded tee shirt, wearing the aforementioned shredded sheet, and replied with a casual roll of his shoulders and mandible-flaring smirk. "I didn't hear you complain at the time."

Rachel emitted a low noise, quite like a growl, but she had nothing on turians. "So that's how it's gonna to be, huh?" Her flat New York accent, normally so carefully hidden, with hard dental consonants and little use for the letters r and g flared to like a supernova under the heat of her anger. "Fine then. Think of it as me leavin' _my_ mark on _you_."

He gaped as she strode past him in high dudgeon toward the bathroom. "You... you said you liked _that _too!" he finally recovered.

She flung the tee shirt and the sheet at her desk chair so hard that her personal terminal shook and Chaucer, the space hamster, squeaked. "You're lucky I didn't pee on your precious armour instead!" she shouted as she slammed the console for the door to shut.

Garrus wasn't at all sure what that meant, but it sounded highly unpleasant. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he realised this was a very silly argument and vorcha should have never become involved. But now she was just making low blows to compensate. Well, he wasn't below doing that, either. "Be sure to clog the drain when you're in there!" he called sarcastically through the door on his way to punch the console for the loft's doors to open.

Her retort, which consisted of such colourful and varied curses that would have even impressed Jack, was only partially drowned out by the shower.

* * *

In the mess, Grunt was pacing. "I don't like this. She's _singing._ The last time she did that, she killed a thresher maw." If it was ever possible to thoroughly disturb a krogan's peace of mind, Shepard had done just that as she sang a popular Lady Sweat hit in the manner of a funeral dirge earlier that day in the direction of the locked main battery doors.

Joker eyed the skittish krogan warily. He wasn't exactly happy about the turn of events, either. Shepard kept muttering '_vorcha!'_ to herself, usually followed by _'shmeckel-head'_ in the most lethal of tones. Poor Kelly had dared to ask what that meant, but didn't wait around for an answer.

As for Garrus, the ominous red-lit console on the main battery doors implied he didn't want to be bothered by anyone and no one particularly wanted to question a guy who seemed to have 'worked that stick out of his ass and now was intent on beating everyone with it'. Finally, the pilot replied, in his usual sarcastic manner, "Now don't be upset, Grunt. I know the Commander has adopted you as her own personal orphaned baby krogan, but you have to understand that Mommy and Daddy are just having a little fight."

Grunt retorted to the pilot, "I am not a baby!"

Zaeed chuckled over this exchange, chomping down his dinner.

Jacob, having just put down his well-loaded tray on the table, asked as he sat down, "Who's fighting?"

Thane gave the main battery a quick glance as though the fellow sniper would emerge to take them all out for speaking out of turn. "_Siha_ and Officer Vakarian appear to be quarreling."

Mordin sucked on the gloop in his flavourless protein pact. "Harmless. Process of courting, mating. Stressful. Commonly followed by several energetic, sometimes violent bouts of what humans refer to as 'make-up sex'. Apparently-"

Joker clapped his hands over his ears. "Gah! Doctor, stop! That is so wrong!"

Jacob pushed his tray away from him, looking sick at the thought. "I think I lost my appetite."

Zaeed nodded in agreement with Mordin. "The whole point o' fighting wit' a woman is t' make-up sex, doc."

Thane's head tilted up, seemingly lost in a memory. Perhaps humans weren't the only race with 'make-up sex'...

Mordin blinked slowly at Joker. "Distressed? Why? Only three at this table have sexual desires for the Commander."

Joker buried his face his hands, pushing his baseball cap back. "Stop, stop! I don't need to know _any_ of this!"

Grunt looked perplexed. "Why doesn't the turian kill those vying for his mate? Why doesn't Shepard?" He demanded of Mordin.

Jacob looked increasingly uncomfortable. Even Thane, no longer lost in a memory of Irikah, shifted in his seat. Zaeed looked unimpressed, however. Mordin simply shook his head and explained, "None are krogan. Shepard clearly marked as his mate. Enough by turian standards. Shepard not interested in another."

Joker was out his seat with speed he hadn't used since Collectors took over the ship. "Ugh! I can't listen to this!" He struck up a hasty retreat back to the cockpit.

Mordin shrugged. "Clearly attached to the Commander in familial way. Curious. Humans. Very difficult to understand. Seem to always talk about sexual intercourse, then upset when brought up by others."

Grunt let the pilot pass, his blue eyes wide with curiosity. "Marked how?"

"Who's a mark?" Garrus Vakarian asked, emerging from the main battery for the first time since the morning.

* * *

"I don't know how I let you talk me into this," Rachel Shepard complained as Kasumi, Tali, Kelly, Jack and Dr. Chakwas pushed her through to the Port Observation Deck- or, more accurately, the bar. Samara had politely declined. Miranda was following, but only for her own amusement.

"You'll pour out your troubles while we pour, Shep. No better way to loosen up!" Kasumi promised.

Shepard snorted. "I'm not letting you get me drunk so you can pry secrets out of me, Kasumi."

"Shepard!" Tali exclaimed, sounding genuinely hurt. "We would never do such a thing!"

Dr. Chakwas patted Shepard on the shoulder, urging her toward the bar. "We'd never dream of putting you in such a position."

"And I make killer margaritas!" Kelly chimed in.

Jack snorted. "The Commander doesn't want any pussy drinks like that, Sunshine. She likes vodka, straight up. Out of the bottle, I'm guessing."

Rachel turned round to Jack, reflecting her body language, crossing her arms and jerking her chin out. "Oh yeah?"

Jack leaned forward, just to get in Shepard's personal space. "Yeah. I bet you'd chug fuckin' ryncol if you could get your hands on some right now."

Rachel considered Jack for a moment, then held out her hand for the bottle of seemingly harmless, odourless, colourless 100 proof engine fuel commonly called vodka. "Bring on the Russian Water, bitches."

Miranda smirked behind Jack as the others cheered their chugging Commander on. Surprisingly, the two had the similar thought, if in different words.

This is going to be a fucking riot.

* * *

Brown bottles of both dextro and levo based beers littered the deserted mess. "I mean, all I said was that her hair was everywhere and suddenly she's screaming at me like a sand-blasted junkie who just had her stash confis- confis- stolen! " Garrus elaborated, clutching one dextro beer as he waved both hands around to further demonstrate Shepard's unreasonableness.

Thane seemed more talkative now that he a few beers in him. "Irikah would act similarly when I asked her to do simple household tasks." His eyes flashed as he said aloud: " She looks at me, frustration in her sunset-coloured eyes. "Thane," she says, "how many times do I have to tell you that I cannot remove gun grease from your leathers?"

Jacob's eyes widened at Thane's eidetic memory. "Whoa. Trippy. Miranda'd always bitch about me leaving my razor. Then she'd bitch that she didn't want to be 'public'" he finger-quoted to show his annoyance, "about our relationship. Well, a man's gotta shave! I told _her._" He lined up more shots of both levo and dextro tequila for the men to gulp before they took to their beers again. He never quite explained how he told Miranda off, though.

Grunt, having packed away the beers as though they were potato chips, still looked confused. "But why was her hair everywhere?"

Mordin, positively sober, had no patience for his inebriated crew mates. "Unnecessary. Requires simple apology. Problem solved."

Garrus shot back, slurring his words a bit, "I have nothing to apologise for! She said I was lucky she didn't pee on me! I didn't equate her with a varren!"

Grunt couldn't help but chuckle even as the rest of the men looked confused. "That's my battlemaster! Marking her territory!"

Garrus fell back into his chair with a slump. "Ohh.. _That's_ what she meant." He looked drunkenly thoughtful.

* * *

The women all had their heads craned to watch their Commander stalk across the top Kasumi's bar. The bottle of vodka was pretty much drained, but she clutched it around the neck like a struggling foe. "Then he called me a _vorcha!_ A _vor-cha!_"

"That bloody arsehole!" Miranda slurred. "All because of some stray hairs?"

Rachel Shepard's pretences of never having a New York accent were out the airlock. "I know! And then he gets furious when I point out that he's ruined my favourite tee shirt-" She brandished her nearly empty bottle. "My _Yankees_ tee shirt that I got last time I was on the Citadel. I don't even have to explain to you guys how important that tee shirt is to me! He should know!"

They had no clue why the tee shirt was so important to Shepard, but went along with it anyway. Only Kelly, strangely more clear-headed than the others asked, "How did he ruin it, Commander?"

Rachel paused, her position on the bar precarious until she leaned back and braced herself against the wall. She took this opportunity to try and finish off the bottle, but she didn't quite manage. "Y'know, his talons shred through _everything_! Sure, it's sexy," she grinned stupidly for a moment before she remembered her rage, "but he's gotta remember some stuff y'can't just rip to pieces because it's time to fuck!"

Jack was clutching her sides, laughing too hard to even be heard. This was beyond all her expectations.

_"Keelah,"_ Tali exclaimed in a wobbly voice. "That must be better than nerve stimulators and awkward messages to a marine who won't say more than 'yes ma'am' to you!"

Rachel pointed her bottle at Tali. " 'member what I told you about holy-fuckier-than-thou Alenko. Don't let Kal 'ma'am' you! Just jump his tight ass!" Her advice was met with howls of approval.

Dr. Chakwas mused over what Shepard had said. Her snifter of Serrice Ice Brandy had thriced been emptied. "I had a turian lover once. Quite a nice chap. Vorenus was his name. His cruiser was nearby during a batarian pirate attack. Some broken plates, nothing more." She reflected fondly, "He did ruin a few things, but mostly he liked to bite. Never heard from him after that. Ah, well."

Everyone in their drunken stupor stared in awe of Dr. Chakwas. Kelly looked utterly impressed of the elder woman. Kasumi starting to giggle, but quickly clapped her hand over her mouth. Jack's kohl-rimmed eyes were running with tears of laughter. Miranda was hiccupping giggles. Tali's silence proved her to be stunned by the revelation.

Rachel sighed, not exactly unhappily, and brought the ice cold bottle to her hot forehead. "The biting _is_ the best part. Except for the _ridges..._"

* * *

Grunt didn't like to venture beyond the Port Cargo Hold. Humans talked too much. He didn't like the chatter. But he also didn't like all this strange tension in the air of the _Normandy._ It wasn't murderous tension. That he knew. It was something else and he couldn't place it. His tank imprints couldn't explain it.

Joker, meanwhile, found himself at uncomfortably loose ends. He was off-duty, which normally didn't mean he left his pilot's seat, but he was also starving. However, the mess was occupied by a several drunken male crew discussing things about the Commander that would likely sear a hole in his brain. He found himself eating very late dinner in the unoccupied med-bay. It seemed the only quiet place on the ship at the moment.

"You," Grunt said, pointing his thick finger at the startled pilot who was simply trying to finish his mashed potatoes. "Shepard likes you. You make her fix this."

Joker looked up to Grunt under his cap and laughed before thinking about the consequences of the krogan thinking he was being mocked. "_Me? _I'm eating. Besides, I don't wanna get in the middle of this and I certainly can't make the Commander do anything she doesn't want to do."

Grunt smashed his fist into his opened palm. "But _why_ are they acting like this?"

Joker sighed, placing unfinished dinner tray on Chakwas' desk. In what fucked up galaxy was he supposed to explain the complicated issue of love to a tank-bred krogan? "This is messed up, Grunt. I don't know. They had a fight. That's what people do." When Grunt still look confused, he sighed again and explained. "With words. The things we talk with, you know? They fought with words."

Grunt refused to accept one could simply fight with words. "I've seen her fight. If her words don't work, she uses her weapons."

Joker briefly considered the idea of breaking his own neck to end his suffering. "Listen, she isn't going to shoot Garrus and he isn't going to shoot her. They're in _love_." He drew out the last word dramatically. "You need to stop worrying, Grunt. It'll blow over in a few days and they'll be sickeningly adorable again."

Grunt had enough of humans and their talking. He moved to pick up a very loudly protesting pilot off the med-bay bed. "You make it happen _now!"_

"HEY! Watch the ribs! Watch the ribs! I'll do it, I'll do it! Just stop trying to break me!"

Grunt smiled for the first time that day, setting Joker to his feet. "Good."

* * *

The collection of drunken males and a curious salarian scientist were all leaning forward in anticipation of Garrus' next words, "And then there's this thing she does with her-"

Joker called out, interrupting the impending mental image which would likely blind him, "Garrus! Hey, buddy, c'mere!"

The men at the mess table groaned. Jacob complained loudly, "Dammit! It was just gettin' good, man!" Garrus tried to glare at Joker but he found it hard to focus on him. _Spirits, how many shots and beers did I have?_ He shook his head, but that only made it worse. "What is it, Joker?" he asked, rubbing his normally clear eyes.

"Grunt and I wanna talk to you." Joker wouldn't move from his position.

"So grab some beers, guys!" Jacob suggested enthusiastically. _Maybe the aliens on the ship weren't so bad after all. Wait. What? Damn, how much did I drink? _

Joker shook his head, motioning Garrus over. "I can't, I'm on duty any minute." He waited to hear a chorus of how that never stopped him before, but they were apparently too drunk to even consider it. He figured he'd appeal to Garrus' sense of duty. "C'mon, Garrus. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important," he implored, he hoped, innocently enough.

Garrus got to his feet unsteadily. "Well," he grinned lopsidedly. Only his cybernetic mandible seemed to hold. "Duty calls." He weaved his way to Joker and Grunt.

It took him several moments to realise he'd been locked in the med-bay.

* * *

Rachel Shepard was crouched atop Kasumi's bar, holding her audience captive. "And then he does this thing with his-"

"Commander!" came the overly-chipper voice of her pilot.

"Hey Jeff!" she called back, rising to her feet unsteadily. "C'mere!" She threw her arms wide open, empty-handed. Apparently the vodka was long gone. As was her balance.

"Whoa, hey there, Commander!" Joker brushed past the drunken women, not even sure what he would do if Shepard fell on him. _Hold on, are Miranda and Jack laughing with _each other_? And is Dr. Chakwas totally shitfaced, too? _Joker muttered under his breath, "Y'know, now would be a _great _time for another Collector attack."

Shepard stumbled several times before bracing herself with the wall behind her. "I wasn't gonna fall," she proclaimed.

Jack doubled over in laughter again.

"Riiight," Joker sighed. Drunken Rachel Shepard was more unpredictable than Commander Rachel Shepard. He had to appeal to her desire to help others ahead of herself. It was a low thing to do, but it was for her own good, he reasoned. "Uh, Commander, I need you in the med-bay."

Shepard's brow furrowed in concern. "Are you all right? D'y'need Doctor Chaw- Er, Chak- uh, the doc?"

Doctor Chakwas, full of surprises, giggled. "I suppose we all had a bit more than a nip tonight."

Joker coughed. _Yeah, my baby's third deck smells like a distillery cuz you're all just tipsy._ "No, I just need to talk to you." He looked up, once again hopeful that his expression remained innocent.

Shepard was a sucker for that look. "Yeah, just gimme a minute to get down." She appraised her position from atop the bar as though she were surveying the pitfall from the edge of a cliff. She dropped to a crouch, then inched toward the edge of the bar.

Forgetting that she knocked over a bottle earlier and neither she nor the other women had bothered to wipe up the slopped remains, Rachel slipped and lost what little balance she had left. Scrabbling for purchase did no good; she simply landed on her ass.

The women of the _Normandy_ applauded her grace with raucous laughter and jeers.

Rachel looked stunned for a moment, as though she had no idea how she got into that position. With an unstable lurch, she pulled herself to her feet, then quickly swayed. Doctor Chakwas had mind to grab her arm as she regained her balance.

Shepard blinked again. "Right. Thanks Doc. Uh, lead on, Joker."

* * *

Rachel, sitting on a med-bay bed and Garrus, hovering ominously near the pilot and the krogan, both glared at mismatched pair in a mutual haze of anger and alcohol. Joker held up his hands. "It wasn't my idea. This crazy krogan wants you two to be all sunshine and bunnies again. It makes me sick, to be honest."

Rachel snorted and instantly regretted it. She shaded her eyes with her hand from the bright med-bay lights. "Joker, I don't like subtlety- No, I mean.. subter… fudge?" She paused, as her mind drifted toward the thought of chocolate before she remembered that she was angry and irritated at being lured into the med-bay on false pretences. "Aw, fuck it. I don't like being lied to, dammit!"

Garrus crossed his arms against his chest. "_I_ don't like being held against my will," he growled at Grunt.

Grunt huffed, pointing his meaty finger at Garrus and then Shepard. "The salarian says you two will apologise to each and then mate and everything will be normal again. My Battlemaster is angry with you! Apologise!"

The strange gasping noise coming from his 'Battlemaster' appeared to be uncontrollable laughter. "He.. said... what?" she managed to choke out.

Joker cringed as Garrus stood up, closing the space between him and Grunt. "I will not be ordered around by some tank-bred-"

Shepard's hand shot out to grab Garrus' arm. "Stop it! This isn't Grunt's fault! Leave him alone!"

Garrus, as if by reflex, stopped when Rachel touched his arm. He slowly turned his head to look back at her. Her mouth was quirked up in a foolish, self-depreciating smile.

At that moment, they both realised they were no longer angry at each other.

Rachel sighed tiredly. "I'm sorry, Grunt. Sometimes people fight-"

Grunt growled, cutting her off, "Not this speech again! You humans talk too much!"

Joker pressed his hand against his face. "They're not gonna... _you know_... in front of you, Grunt."

Garrus and Rachel both looked confused. "What're you talking about?" the Commander asked, obviously forgetting that she had just laughed over the idea moments before.

Grunt replied, irritated that he had to repeat himself, "What Mordin said! Apologise!"

Garrus turned around fully to cup Rachel's face in his taloned hands. "I do like your hair. In fact, I _love_ your hair."

Joker groaned, looking for a way out of the room.

"So you _don't_ think I'm like a vorcha?" was Shepard's coquettish question.

Joker groaned. "Grunt, you gotta let me outta here."

"Not until they're done," was the firm reply from the krogan.

"_Never_. I'm sorry I said those things. I was in a bad mood. It's no excuse."

She reached up to pull his face closer to hers. "You _did_ ruin my favourite shirt, but I think I can forgive you."

"Oh, you _think_ so?" replied Garrus with a smirk that was still lopsided.

"Now they're going to mate!" Grunt cried cheerfully.

"Oh, shit, no! No, Grunt, we gotta go. _Now!_"

Who knew the fragile-boned pilot could steer the perfect krogan specimen so quickly out of a room?

* * *

A/N x2: In case you want to call people rude things in other languages, a '_shmeckel' _literally means 'penis'. Hence 'schmeckel-head' would be, well, dickhead, only more covert. *ahem*_  
_


End file.
